Still Gold
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: After an off game, Harry needs some help with his confidence. Maybe he justs needs someone who believes in him. Oneshot


**Ever since publishing my first Harry/Ginny I've become _obsessed_!!! I tried repeatedly to draw some fan art (failing miserably). When I couldn't get it right, I thought 'Forget this, I'm writing a oneshot'. I know I need to update my multi-chaptered stories, but lately I just like doing oneshots. Oh, well.**

Zipping high above the sky was Harry Potter, his broomstick seeming to act of its own accord as he dived and spun. The rising sun was fluorescently shining hues of red and yellow, giving the impression of a breakfast egg. This caused Harry's stomach to grumble, but he ignored it as he swooped lower.

With special permission from Professor McGonagall, the boy got up early to practice for the upcoming Quidditch game. At least, this was the story he fed her; in reality Harry was really venting anger in flying. He had been angry with himself since the last Quidditch game versus Slytherin. The Snitch was repeatedly in his vision but, unlike other times, he could not grasp it. It was always a centimeter away when he tried, causing him to be very frustrated. Eventually the Slytherin Seeker—Draco Malfoy of all people—noticed the Snitch, and grabbed it where he could not, winning the game for Slytherin. The Gryffindors were rather sulky the rest of the day; many shot glares Harry's way, whilst others simply ignored him. Either way Harry grew angry with them, but mainly himself.

_What's wrong with me?_ he asked in thought, his Firebolt jerking him upwards. Of _course_ it was Slytherin they played against when he suddenly lost the ability to grab the Golden Snitch. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff could've been playing, but it just _had_ to be Slytherin. And Malfoy and his cronies didn't make things easier: whenever Harry appeared in sight, they started shouting things like "Butterfingers Potter" or "Catch anything good?" Then they'd laugh and snort, leaving Harry gritting his teeth.

As he plunged down, he noticed someone standing below in the stands. Harry scrutinized this person and saw, as the long red hair blew in the early morning breeze, that it was Ginny Weasley. She grinned up at him, and he grinned back halfheartedly. He felt slightly embarrassed; he must've looked stupid the way he was flying, just zigzagging absurdly up and down, back and forth.

"Better get back to the common room," Harry called down to her, "or McGonagall will chew you out." Ginny merely laughed.

"Don't worry, I got permission," she said, "What's up?" Harry shrugged, avoiding her eyes as he twisted around. He started flying around again, but his green eyes stayed upon Ginny's face.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," said Ginny suddenly. Harry stopped to linger in the air a second, replaying Ginny's words. How'd she knew what was bothering him? Why he was outside in the morning, on his Firebolt?

"It kind of was," he replied, looking up as the sun glowed brighter, reflecting off his glasses. He didn't look at Ginny, for he was a little shameful at getting upset over the Snitch, now that Ginny knew. "If I wasn't such a 'Butterfingers', I'd have caught it."

When he turned, he saw Ginny giving him a hard look. Her brown eyes looked brooding, and she walked off the stands. When Harry couldn't see her anymore, he decided she had left for Gryffindor Tower. With that conclusion he sped off again.

He looked up at the sun once more to see it had almost fully risen. The pink lines coming from it were starting to diminish and thin, and the sky went from dawn's reddish-orange to day's baby blue. He knew breakfast would begin shortly and McGonagall had told him to be back before then. He also didn't want Hermione and Ron to worry; well, didn't want Hermione worrying, for Ron would surely be too busy stuffing his face with sausage and the like. As Harry began to lower himself a dot of gold whizzed by. He blinked, thinking he had imagined it. But again the flash of yellow sped past his head. He whipped his neck around in search in of it. There, before his very eyes, was the fluttering Snitch.

A powerful urge came over Harry that moment. He would catch it…he would…Kicking off, he zoomed toward the ball, which sped away from him. _Just like at the game, _he thought dismally. What was the point of trying? But, as the sphere of gold flapped its wings, he felt the urge again and dashed after it again. It jumped away from him but he kept speeding towards it, adrenaline pumping, determination strong. He stretched his arm out, his fingertips zealously going forward. He clenched his teeth tight together and reached as far as his arm could possibly go. Then…it was in his hand.

He held a tight fist and stared at it intently. He was afraid to open it; what if the truth was he hadn't caught it at all? That he was as much a horrid Seeker as he was but a week ago? But he had to know. He unclenched his hand and…

It was the Snitch. Within his grasp, was the Snitch.

In spite of himself, Harry smiled and yelled. He had done it! He was still worthy of his Seeker title! He felt so proud he wanted to jump off his broomstick as if he'd be able to walk on the air. _Rub this in Malfoy's face, I should!_ he thought jubilantly. He moved his head around, as if the blonde-headed git would appear, and saw Ginny below in the stands, the box of Quidditch supplies at her feet.

Harry looked up from the box and at her eyes. She grinned at him, and he did so back at her. The Snitch still in his hand, he flew over towards the Weasley girl.

"I needed that." he said.

"Now do you realize you're an excellent Seeker?" asked Ginny. Harry nodded.

"I do," he said, "thanks to you."

**Fluffy! lol But isn't that the best way?**


End file.
